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Asian Spice Girl

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When Danny saw her ad on the escort website, it was like she was reaching out to him directly.

ASIAN SPICE GIRL — YOU SHOULD TRY ME!! LOL!

I am a hot MILF for the most discerning gentlemen out there. I can be your horny GF or have you been a naughty boy? Then come and see Aunty Divya for a spanking. Is there anything you would like to see me in? Perhaps a full length sari for you to slowly unwrap. Delicious!

Or are you looking for a Dominatrix? I have an array of pvc and leather to compliment my very dominant side; (Yes I do love to take charge in the bedroom, if you are man enough). Whatever is your fantasy you only need to ask and Mistress Divine will do her best to make your time spent with her an unforgettable experience. I promise you will not be disappointed.

Divya. XXX

PS WITHELD NUMBERS WILL BE IGNORED.

Looking forward to meeting all you gorgeous gents and naughty boys.

This was what he had been wanting; the red sari she was wearing; the way she wore her luxurious dark hair in a loose bun with unruly curls falling in front of that chocolate brown face; alluring him to; “come to bed, darling,” one of the captions read under the picture of her in a tight, sexy, scarlet number that hugged her heavy breasts, and showed that she had curves in all the right places. She must be working out, Danny thought, most impressed. He could never get Amy interested in the gym. And her legs; he couldn’t believe how long, sexy and smooth they looked in those long red PVC boots.

Danny had spent the last six months since he split up with his long term partner, Amy, surfing these escort sites, trying to find that elusive woman who would rock his world. He was only interested in those his own age. Danny was a realist, after all. If he was going to spend the hundred plus an hour they were charging, then at least he wanted to feel there would be a connection; a chemistry. He was not going to fool himself into thinking that a total stranger, his own daughter’s age, was going to be into him, no matter how good an actress, she may be. But by the same token, he didn’t have the time or inclination to join dating sites either, just to go through the rigmarole of having to suffer inane conversation in pursuit of some vanilla shag with a stranger, who he would end up fucking, simply because she wasn’t Amy. Danny’s need was deeper than that.

However, although Danny had spent those months dabbling in some quite perverse delights that he could never have hoped of getting from Amy, it hadn’t been enough. The chemistry he craved hadn’t been there. Not with any of them. And he had been so careful not to choose anyone too expensive or out of his league.

Perhaps he belonged to Amy after all and that he should go back to her, no matter what her faults. Before they broke up, he had tried to reason with her that he was simply bored; that he needed to sew the wild oats he had never got to sew because he had dedicated himself to the same woman and the same bed for 20 long years. He was being honest, he told her. Would she rather live a lie with her man?

And she had put on weight too, (although perhaps he needn’t have pointed that out). But all the same, he thought; six months ago she had begged him to stay, pleading that she could change: that it was empty nest syndrome, whatever that was. So, it shouldn’t be that difficult for Danny to return and cajole her into losing those few extra pounds, perhaps.

And that was exactly how his mind had been set before he came across his Asian Spice Girl. She was lush, alluring; everything that Danny had been looking for, right there in front of him. He became so besotted by her beauty and aloofness that he had been quite nervous to call her. Amy had always begged him to communicate more; for them to talk out this crises of his. Ironically, it had taken this slimmer, sexier version of her, to bring that out in him; to finally confess his sexual yearnings. After a long candid and emotional conversation over the phone, Mistress Divine informed Danny that she would be herself, very excited to welcome him to her home.

Wearing his slim fit jeans and white shirt, his head freshly shaven and gleaming, armed with a purple orchid flower and a white envelope containing the 140 pound –an- hour fee, Danny set off, though still with some trepidation.

*

The front door had been left slightly ajar, as per the instructions she had given him on his way over. Danny entered with a certain amount of trepidation, having already been warned by the quite formidable Divya that if she was not convinced he was ready to be her slave, he would not be getting the honey. “This takes training and serious dedication to your Mistress,” she had warned him. She would take his money but just as soon dismiss him out of hand if he did not come up to scratch.

“Hi,” he called out, tentatively. “It’s me,” he said. “I’m here.” There was no answer and the whole downstairs was rather gloomy. “Um, I bought flowers,” he said. “I thought you might…”

“You can canlı bahis go straight through and put them in the vase in the kitchen,” she spoke from the living room which was off to the left. Danny passed the door that led to where she was waiting and quickly entered the kitchen, placing the flower on the worktop. Then he returned and entered the living room.

She sat on a basic wooden chair, left leg crossed over right, her hands folded in her lap; wearing the most alluring midnight satin and lace nightie that rode up to the top of her thighs and held her full voluptuous breasts, their cherry red nipples straining at the delicate lattice work like two dark stains.

“Wow!” he blurted out, like a forlorn school boy. “You look…”

“I beg your pardon,” she cut in sharply. “Did Mistress Divya invite you to come in? Did Mistress Divine invite you to speak?”

Danny dithered in the doorway, gaping at her. Her lips so full in ruby gloss, and dark eyes that scrutinized and held their own silent court of judgment. And her hair! As midnight black and satin as her nightie, tied up in a bun with wisps and loose strands hanging down over a delicate vase shaped neck.

“Just place the envelope above the fire-place,” she gently ordered.

He did as she requested.

“Good. Now come over here,” she ordered, and in her right hand she revealed a cane. It was an old fashioned crook handle spanking cane about two feet in length. “Well, come on,” she demanded, “don’t be shy.”

Danny stood just in front of her. “Good boy,” she said. “Now undress; Mistress needs to inspect you, first.” Again he just stood gaping. “Well, chop chop!” she urged.

Danny began to remove his clothes, starting with the white shirt. This was something he would not normally feel self-conscious about doing. He worked out regularly and was proud of his forty year old bod. However, she was quite intimidating. “All of it?” He asked.

“Well of course all of it, idiot boy,” she said, irritably. He removed his slim fit jeans and she immediately snatched them out of his hand and threw them in the corner. “You won’t be needing these anymore,” she said. “A man of your age wearing slim-fit. How old do you think you are?” she taunted him. “You’re what now, forty five?

“I’m forty.”

“I didn’t ask for an answer,” she interjected, suddenly springing up onto her feet and a placing the crook of the cane between his legs. “It was a rhetorical question,” she whispered, up close. Then she inspected him, prodded him with the cane. “Bend over,” she quietly ordered and as he did so, he felt the thin edge of the stick sting his behind. “Now why are you not naked?” She demanded.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Danny replied and as he quickly removed his underpants, his thick cock unfurled and sprung to attention which seemed to please her.

“Good boy,” she said with some glee. “Now you are getting the hang of it.” Mistress stood in front of him and inspected the goods. The tip of her tongue ran over her ruby lips and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Tell me, Danny boy,” she asked, softly.” Would you like to fuck me?” She placed the cane across his shoulder, exerting a downward pressure to indicate that he should kneel before her. He duly obliged and as he sank to his knees, she turned the cane around to place the hook around the back of his neck. Then she raised him up so that his face was level with the tops of her legs and the ‘v’ of her mound. “Look at me, Danny,” she ordered in a barely audible whisper. Danny looked up. “Tell me, can you see the position we are in here? She asked.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“This is the position that reflects the status of our newly formed relationship; I – your Mistress and you -my Slave. You would do well to adhere to my demands at all times and maintain your lowly status,” she spoke soft and calm. “I mean that is, if you think you can handle it, without your male ego getting in the way. Do you think you can?”

“Oh yes, Mistress,” he said. “I won’t ever leave.”

To that she gave a derisory snort, stepping towards him so that he could feel the silky black softness of her panties on the tip of his nose. “I wonder is that because of the allure of the honey that seeps from your Mistress’s pussy? Is that it? I do hope so.”

“Oh yes, Mistress.”

She began to gyrate that smoothly waxed triangular mound of flesh beneath silk, in subtle circles around the tip of his nose. “Do you know that right now you are making your Mistress very wet?”

“Are you?” He exclaimed, looking up at her, a grin across his face which she immediately removed with a swift strike of the cane across the shoulders.

“Fuck!” he said. So she did it again.

“Don’t you ever look at me like that again, do you hear.” Wincing with the pain, Danny nodded. “And don’t you ever blaspheme in the presence of Mistress Divine.” Then she sat back down again, abandoning him with that aloof air. “I’m not so sure you are ready,” she finally told him, “or deserving for that matter,” she said. “I think you bahis siteleri should take your tight little boy jeans, put them on and go back to whichever place you crawled out of, do you hear me?” she said and she threw his jeans at him. “It takes a real man to submit to a woman.”

He simply didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if she was being serious or whether this was all part of the role play. So Danny did what Danny always does best; he did what always worked with Amy. He wept and hoped it would have the same effect on Mistress Divine.

Of course, she was a very different prospect; a different class. Her superiority, her immediate command of him; Danny knew that this was what he had always wanted; what he believed now had been missing, so he wept. He wept because now he didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t want to lose what he truly believed he had waited a life time for.

“What?” She exclaimed. “Are you going to be a baby, now?”

Danny just sobbed and sobbed. He didn’t care. All he could do was show her what a sensitive soul he really was; how genuine his love and devotion for her could be.

“If you wanted to be a baby,” Mistress interrupted coldly; “you should have asked for a Mummy. Would you like me to introduce you to Aunt Divya, instead?

“I’m sorry,” Danny finally said. “It’s just perhaps a bit overwhelming,” he told her. “I mean, I think I really do want to be your submissive slave and worship you and do everything you ask of me and …”

By now she was standing over him again. “Look at me, Danny,” she said and he looked up into her sympathetic dark eyes.

“I really am sorry,” he said but she quickly placed the crook of the cane over his lips.

“Ssshh, cry baby,” she whispered. Then hooking the cane around the back of his neck, she gently led him to the chair where she sat down, indicating that her newly adopted submissive be seated at her feet, like a grateful puppy. With the hook of the cane she pulled his head towards her thighs. Then cupping his face in her hands, she said; “Now then, Danny boy, let’s drop the silly charades shall we and you show Mistress how good you are with that tongue.” And she pushed his head down towards her swelling vulva.

*

Divya would have liked to have punished him more but this was her first time as Mistress Divine and so much was she enjoying this emancipating role of domination over a man that she hadn’t been able to resist her own urges any longer.

“Just there,” she ordered, using her own fingers to guide him toward the nub of her swollen clitoris. “Yes, cry-baby,” the effect was immediate, as the rough wet tip of his hot tongue flicked over those sensitive glands. He knew what to do, as she lifted her hips off the chair, thrusting her widening honey pot towards him, she felt the length of his tongue, slither between the moistening crack and penetrate the vulva. O my God, if he goes further she will be done for.

With a full hand splayed on his face she pushed him violently away. “That’s enough!” she ordered, re-establishing her status. Danny toppled over onto his back, and Divya caught sight of his thick length, pleased to see that it was as stiff as when she had made him strip bare.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, did I do wrong?” he asked.

“Don’t worry,” she said with regained composure, “you will soon learn when and for how long Mistress wants your tongue,” she said, placing the very point of the cane on the eye of his hard cock and then teasing the whole of his shaft with the length of the cane. “I have 24 inches of flexible length here and you have what?” She examined his manhood. ” I’d say you have six, maybe seven -if I was to be generous- of hard gristle? Tell me, Cry baby Daniel, which one of us do you think can inflict the most damage and the most pleasure?”

Oh that was a stroke of improvised genius on her part, she thought. He was following the length of the cane as if it were some venomous snake about to strike. His expression was one of erotic terror.

“Now, pleasure yourself, for me,” she gently requested, guiding the tip of the cane towards his scrotum. “Pleasure yourself for your Mistress,” she insisted applying the right pressure.

He took the thick length of his cock and began to stroke. “But look at me!” she ordered and he did so. For a long length of silence only interrupted by his heavy sighs, they locked eyes as he stroked himself. “Tell me, do you ever think of her?” she asked.

“Who?” he responded, although he knew who.

“Tell me,” she insisted.

“Yes, of course,” he said. She slid off the chair and knelt beside him and he paused to look at her, unsure of what she was going to do.

“Don’t stop,” she told him. “Not until I tell you, got that?”

“Yes, my Mistress,” he said, continuing with the strokes and watching her as she got up and took something off the shelf and knelt down beside him again.

“Keep going, cry-baby boy,” she told him as she revealed a tube of gold lubricant with a logo of the bumble bee on it. A bahis şirketleri sweet honey fragrance accompanied the gel as it was released into her hand. Grabbing his hard shaft, she felt the contrast of the heat of his length against the smooth coolness of the gel. Not once did he take his eyes from her or hers from his but she made sure her expression remained stern, a tacit judgment on his sins of the past and when she saw the tears well up again in his eyes and the corners of his bottom lip quiver and turn down, she bent over him and kissed his mouth violently; not allowing his tongue to seek hers but sucking and nipping his lips as she straddled him and lowered her swollen vulva over his full length, gently fucking him into oblivion. Releasing her lips from his and straightening her back, Mistress reached behind her to grab a plump pillow from the settee to place under his buttocks; another genius piece of improv, she thought to herself and the moment the position of his buttocks shifted to come up and meet her pelvis, she could feel the Holy piercing of her swollen petals and the flesh and gristle deep within, being moistened with her own fluids. She was able to lean forward, allowing him full access to her buxom breasts and the swollen nipples which he nuzzled through lace. “Oh you love that don’t you crybaby boy?” she reminded him, bringing him now to the point of his release. “Who’s the momma?” she demanded. “Who’s the momma, now?” As she plucked the nipple from his mouth, laid the length of cane across his throat and looked him in the eye. “Tell me, cry baby boy?”

“You’re the momma,” he told her. “You are the momma.”

You wanna come to Momma?” She asked. “Hey? You wanna come to momma.” She had lifted herself up so that the tip of his manhood nestled in the fleshy folds of her honey coated pearl, the dome massaging her swollen clitoris. She knew that this would be too much for any man to bare. “Talk to me, Danny,” she urged.

“Yes,” he said. “I want to come. My Mistress. My Mistress, rule me.”

She felt him ready to explode his hot cum deep within the pink folds of her swollen sex but she wasn’t quite ready. He couldn’t just have it his own way. She dexterously grabbed his throbbing cock and returned the dome back to her clitoris, guiding it smoothly along the moistened track between the folds of fleshy petals to meet her swollen nub and then back and forth, in a rhythm that built up momentum towards an inevitable crescendo. “Right there!” she instructed, guiding him now to take up that steady rhythm, using just the bell end of his shaft to pummel that pearl of swelling gristle, until finally; “let me see it! Let me see it” and she leant forward, back arched, so that she could watch the dome of his thick cock emerge from her waxed and honeyed mound; hot spurts bombarded her abdomen, the midnight black silk of her nightie and finally splattered and settled across the delicate lattice pattern of her breasts. She shuddered in fuzzy warmth from her groin to her toes.

Then she released him, dismounted his waning cock and left the room.

*

She had left him lying naked on the living room floor, allowing him this moment to bask in his own perceived glory, while she went upstairs and took a quick shower, promising herself a long luxurious bath later. Then she changed into black leggings, T.shirt and long baggy sweater before returning downstairs, where she was secretly pleased to see that he was still naked on the living room floor.

Propped up on one elbow, his right leg bent at the knee, and sentinel over his limp cock which curled around his balls like a sleeping kitten, he looked at her with a wide bewildered grin across his face. In twenty years of marriage, he had never known her to look so good, taste so good and fuck like she did. “O wow, Amy! Like, you are still the fucking best,” he exalted. “I mean when you …”

“You need to get dressed,” she said, throwing his clothes towards him before curling up on the settee.

“Sure,” Danny replied amiably. “I thought I’d have a shower first, though, if that’s ok.” Then still naked, he crawled on over to her and placed his chin on her knee. She looked at him, dully. “Hey, Amy..” raised eyebrows, her only response. “Danny boy did a bad thing, didn’t he?” he said all sulkily. “Puppy made a mess. And he’s really sorry. He is going to do everything from now on to make up to his Amy love.

“Really?” she asked.

“I swear,” he told her. “I mean, the moment I saw you on that site, I thought that’s my Amy, that’s my Asian Spice girl,” he said, his eyes bright and eager to please. She could see that she had more than succeeded in gaining the desired effect and she needed to bask in that glory for herself too. Just for the moment, perhaps. It had taken her weeks to get back on her feet after her Danny had left her. She had begged him to come home; had tried so desperately to convince him that she would do anything to win his love back. Those first two months of separation had been the lowest in her life. She simply fell apart without him; her whole world had been her Danny boy. He had been the very rock; the foundation upon which she had made sense of the world; only for him to shatter it all is one seismic shift; in one cruel statement of intent.

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